


Perhaps

by oneiriad



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Sexually Transmitted Diseases
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-20
Updated: 2012-01-20
Packaged: 2017-10-29 20:33:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/323903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneiriad/pseuds/oneiriad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some acts of piracy are too terrible to consider.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perhaps

Jack fell in love with James.

James fell in love with Jack.

It's an old story, really, told many times before. In many ways, this time was no more remarkable than any of the others.

Perhaps it had started on the docks – with a handshake and a leer and a look and a chase. Perhaps.

Perhaps it had started at the fort – high and mighty Fort Charles – with brief words and kohl-rimmed eyes gazing into broken-hearted ones. Perhaps.

Perhaps it started with the Act of Grace, given by the Governor after much daughterly pressure – forcing Commodore to deal with pirate – sorry, to deal with privateer Captain on a regular basis. Perhaps.

Or perhaps it even started with the dinner invitation, and it was hard to tell whether the inviter was more surprised than the invited at it happening or vice versa. But Jack went and ate cherry pie and drank brandy at a naval man's table. Laughter echoed in the night. So, perhaps.

It had been slow at first – both had tasted hurt before, both were cautious. Still, there were other dinners, and meetings at taverns and at inns. Once they even went to see a travelling troupe of actors – Jack made catcalls and threw nuts at the poor people, while James rolled his eyes at his antics.

Slow at first, yes, but something took root. Something grew. Something set a bud.

In the Commodore's bed they met – for James thought Jack might derive some small pleasure from that location, and he wished to give it to him. Jack stroked and kissed and licked and sucked and swallowed, but when James – fair man that he was – tried to repay the favour, Jack suddenly stiffened, froze, and then batted his hands away. Then he left, leaving behind a spent and confused and hurt man.

Jack went back to his ship and his cabin. He stood before a large mirror and removed the clothes he had hastily thrown back on. He studied himself, fingers travelling over tanned skin.

He found the sores. One-two-three, he counted. Three too many. Far too many.

Alone in his cabin, he thought of white skin, smooth and unblemished. He imagined sores on that skin. He imagined ravings in that crisp voice. Tears stung his eyes. He could not bear those thoughts.

And so he would not have it.

Three days later black sails caught a morning breeze, carrying a ship out to sea. Rumour had it they were going far away – some said to Singapore, some said to Madagascar, some said they were going after the very Manila Galleon. The only thing the rumours all agreed on was that they were not coming back any time soon, if ever.

High above, at a place where it might have started, James stood, a sash left behind by a too-hasty departure wound and wound and wound again in his hands. Alone and lost, he looked at the black sails until they vanished below the horizon.

Perhaps one day he would receive a letter – explaining, apologizing, asking for forgiveness for that single, terrible act of piracy that a certain scoundrel had not found it within himself to commit.

Perhaps…


End file.
